


Men of Cambridge

by bauer



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Face-Fucking, M/M, Public Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6423739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bauer/pseuds/bauer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam just wants to unwind tonight. Running into PK isn't really conductive with relaxation. </p><p>But, as a wise woman once said, "Head is the answer."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Men of Cambridge

**Author's Note:**

> Back in my elementary school, after SOME people began abusing the system, it was voted that April Fools' Day was also Opposite Day. In recognition of this holiday, I have written Something Mostly Normal™, [inspired by this gifset.](http://ratbarnaby.tumblr.com/post/138140695264) I couldn't find a satisfying time for this to take place in our world, so instead it takes place in vague lawyer AU where PK went to Harvard and Cam still went to BC, poor thing.
> 
> As always, yell at me if I forget a tag or make an embarrassing typo. Title's a nod to Vampire Weekend. Happy reading!

Cam should have turned around and fled that club. He should have walked right back out the door the second he saw someone who _might_ have been PK. It’d seemed ridiculous when he’d first walked in the guys, that they would be in the same place at the same time. Paranoid at best, obsessed at worst. It was _impossible_ , right up until Cam was squeezed in tight right next to the man at the bar.

Cam goes unnoticed for all of ten seconds. “ _Cam_ eron _At_ kinson!” PK yells, so obviously PK, and all Cam’s hairs stand on end, even as PK throws a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Haven’t seen you around in awhile!”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have,” Cam says, cold as can be.

“Yeah, yeah, for sure. Graduated and got a big boy job and everything. How is Columbus treating you, anyway?” PK asks, grin pulled wide.

It’s shit; PK knows that.

“It’s great. Awesome. The guys are great. How’s H. and B.’s doing?” They’re shit; Cam knows that, too. PK’s eyes harden a pinch around the edges, and Cam can’t help but press at that bruise a little more. “Price has been out for, what, six months now?" 

That was a mistake, a step too far, and Cam doesn’t realize that when a flash of recognition goes off in PK’s eyes. “Yeah, about that long. How do you know Pricer? Pretty sure your paths never crossed,” he says, sly, like a check.

Cam holds off the cringe, reigning in his expression before saying, “He friended me on Facebook.” And that makes PK flinch, barely noticeable.

It’s not technically a lie, but Cam may have been aware of Carey before he’d gotten that notification. Might have noticed mutuals liking or commenting on posts of Carey and PK at Copley Square, Carey and PK working long nights, Carey and PK making a nice homemade dinner… Carey and PK at Carey’s wedding, eventually.  But Cam certainly isn’t going to admit to all that, so he turns back to the bar. He doesn’t acknowledge PK still lingering in his peripheral, focusing instead on the bartender lining up his shots in front of him, tapping his fingers impatiently against the bar top. He feels, more than sees, PK lean in closer.

“Listen, Cam—”

The bartender finishes pouring, and Cam interrupts PK with an abrupt, “I gotta go.” He downs one of the shots before grabbing the rest and taking off back to the booth.

Or in the general direction of the booth, before he downs the rest of the shots in short order—he hadn’t been paid back for them yet, anyway—and takes a detour towards the dance floor. He’s not dressed right, would have preferred something tighter and a lot more porous, something that screams _look at me, take me,_ but his business casual look would have to do.

The crowd seems to appreciate the cut of his pants, at least. The floor is packed, a constant throbbing mass, and they keep a steady stream of hands on Cam’s sides, hips grinding against his ass. Nothing that kept his attention, not until someone digs his fingers into Cam’s hips, and, _finally_ , jolted Cam into grinding to his rhythm. The man’s hands are big, confident, and Cam sighs and leans into the solid body behind him, pressing his hips back. The guy runs his teeth against Cam’s neck, pressing toothy, mean kisses against Cam’s neck. _This_ is what Cam needs tonight. A bubble of heat pops in his stomach, and he decides right then that he’s getting fucked by this man tonight. Hard, preferably.

The man bites hard at Cam’s ear, before saying, “Is this why you blew me off at the bar earlier? Can’t help but be a little slut when there’s people around who might fuck you?” And it’s PK again, of course it’s fucking PK, because no one else could make Cam this hard and this soft so effortlessly at the same time.

Cam lets out a little grunt despite himself, and PK lifts a hand to twist into Cam’s hair. He lingers for a second, combing through, before yanking Cam’s head back. Up close, PK’s just as handsome as ever, and Cam doesn’t regret whatever he’s doing that makes PK think kissing him is a good idea.

PK doesn’t tease; he goes at Cam with a open mouth and demanding tongue, taking his breath away. Cam wants it, wants him, so fucking bad, and he can’t help but hold his breath when PK pulls back, before he says, “How about I put something a little more interesting in that gorgeous mouth of yours?”

It annoys Cam that PK feeling like he need to use lines with him, and it amplifies the part of him that’s screaming that he shouldn’t even be in the same _building_ as PK. Still, those feelings are both drowned out by how much Cam wants this. He feels hot, sticky and desperate, and if nothing else, Cam knows PK can take care of him this way. 

Cam leans up and licks at PK’s mouth once more before breaking off. PK lets him go easy, and Cam makes a beeline for the club’s bathrooms. Cam doesn’t look back as he slips through the crowd, like he’s Orpheus or something, and he’s not sure if he’s surprised or not when PK barely waits for the bathroom door to close behind him before backing Cam up against the stall. He boxes Cam in this time, holds onto his jaw and doesn’t let him move. PK pushes Cam’s head up, baring Cam’s neck to himself. Cam inhales sharply when he feels PK’s teeth digging into his neck again, scratching up what’s sure to be a massive hickey.

Cam should be annoyed. Very annoyed. Instead, he rests a hand on the back of PK’s head, hesitantly, and lets himself to look in the mirror for a few seconds, appreciating how they still look damn good together.

Another man crosses in front of them; he barely even glances at them, but it still makes Cam flush. “PK,” Cam hisses. “PK, come on, I’m not going to suck you off out here.” 

PK groans, and Cam can feel it vibrate against his neck. PK leans back up, moving his hands to squeeze at Cam’s biceps. “Yeah, because the stalls are so much better.” 

“They are, actually,” Cam says, but PK is already backing into one. Cam follows, not letting himself think, and he’s not sure if PK’s hands or his own volition gets him on his knees quicker once the door closes behind him.

Cam should feel nervous, he thinks, kneeling on the floor of a skeezy club in front of a man PK’s size, whose gaze could be called nothing short of predatory. But he’s not. He trusts him, despite everything. Cam feels anticipatory, jittery, horny, yes, definitely. He feels _hungry_ , watching PK stroke himself through his jeans.

Cam’s jaw _aches_ from how much he wants it by the time PK’s dick is fully out of his jeans. His dick’s handsome, always has been, and Cam wants it in his mouth bad. Wants to rub his face on it, honestly.

Cam can feel PK’s eyes on him, but he keeps his eyes on PK’s hand wrapped around his dick, the glide of his foreskin being pulled back. This silent game makes Cam itch, but he knows PK’s going to break first, so he waits it out.

PK spends a surprisingly long time time just jerking himself off, inches away from Cam’s face. Cam’s starting to squirm by the time PK says, “What, you bring me back here just to watch?”

“ _No_ ,” Cam says. 

“Not doing much to convince me otherwise,” PK says, conversationally. His voice is smooth, confident, equal parts soothing and rousing. “Trying to play hard to get? A little late for that when you’re already on your knees waiting for it. You shy, all of a sudden? Can’t admit to how bad you want it?”

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, you know I do.”

PK moans quietly, jerking himself hard. Cam’s going a little cross-eyed, watching him. “Fucking right, I know. I know what a little whore like you needs. You need this dick, don’t you, sweetheart? That’s why you’re on you knees right now, look at me like that, like you just want me to read your mind. Does that sound about right to you? You need it that bad?”

Cam closes his mouth, swallows, then says, “I—”

PK shoves his unoccupied thumb in Cam’s mouth, pushing down on his bottom teeth. “Sh, sh, sh, you had your chance to talk.” Cam tongues at the end of PK’s thumb before it leaves his mouth, doesn’t play stupid. His face is burning, but he sticks his tongue out, flat and waiting against his lip, and looks up at PK, eyes wide.

Cam whines, low and honest in his throat. And PK still makes him wait, so Cam does it again, longer, more desperate.

Cam very resolutely doesn’t think about how he looks, and he’s rewarded seconds later when PK cracks and rubs the head of his dick against Cam’s tongue. Cam moans again, twitches, curls his tongue around PK. He doesn’t dare do more than that.

PK tastes like skin and sweat and precome, and he spends a long time just teasing himself, teasing Cam. Cam fidgets, digging his fingers into his thighs, but when the moment drags on he risks a, “Please,” around PK’s dick.

“What?” PK asks, backing up, making Cam whine in earnest.

 “Please,” Cam gasps, “Please, fuck my face. Wanna feel it.”

Cam’s mouth is barely back open before PK’s dick is back in him, and he moans in gratitude. His dick is rock hard, still tucked away in his pants, and his entire body feels like fire.

PK doesn’t hesitate, fingers digging through Cam’s curls, and fucks in deep. Cam tries to keep up, hollows his cheeks and presses his tongue against the underside, but he gags around PK when he presses too deep. PK stays buried, choking him with his dick, throat convulsing. He keeps Cam close, makes him work for it.

Cam tucks his fingers into the hem of PK’s pants, just for something to hold on to. His eyes are leaking steadily now, and he can’t even begin of controlling the spit pooling in his mouth, leaking out. But PK likes it like this, fast and wet and brutal. Cam does, too. Fuck, he really does.

“Cam,” PK grunts. _“Look at me.”_ Cam does, prying his eyes open that he doesn’t even remember closing, looks up at PK’s wide open face through his clumped eyelashes. Cam knows how he looks like this, messy and defiled, face covered in sweat and tears and spit, but PK loves it. Loves how his dick splits Cam’s mouth open, spreads him wide and reshapes him around PK.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty. So damn pretty, even when you’re gagging on me,” PK says, grinding deep. Cam chokes again and can’t help but cough around PK’s dick. PK lingers for a beat, two, and Cam’s chest constricts tight until PK withdraws completely, letting Cam wheeze and drool out another mouthful of spit and precome he doesn’t even try to keep in.

PK rubs the sopping head of his dick against Cam’s cheeks, the bridge of his nose, tagging him while he catches his breath. Cam’s throat feels raw, bruised, but it still hurts more to have PK’s dick anywhere but inside him. His jaw stays loose, mouth wide open with his tongue hanging out, begging for PK to come back, and he can’t keep his needy little noises in, either.

“I know, baby, I know. It’s mean of me to keep something so important from you. No one can fuck you like I can, must drive a slut like you crazy being stranded out in fucking _Ohio,”_ PK murmurs, poking at the corners of Cam’s mouth before sliding up against Cam’s flushed-red cheeks again. Cam whines, turns and tries to follow him, and this time PK indulges him, shoving dick straight into the back of Cam’s throat. “Don’t worry, baby, I got you. I got you.”

PK’s hands lock in Cam’s hair again, drawing him closer, Cam’s forehead against his stomach, and this time the thrusting is relentless. Cam’s crying steadily now, but he’s not sure if it’s the relentless pressure or PK or everything else. He feels raw in the best way, the worst way, but he feels so filthy and used that his cock feels like it could burst all on its own, Cam’s hand still clutching at PK’s pants. 

PK grinds deep when he finally comes, his moan surprisingly contained. He lingers for a couple seconds, fucking in one last time letting his dick slide out of Cam’s mouth. They’re still connected by pearly strings for a few seconds, but PK breaks them before Cam can finish coughing up PK’s come all over himself. 

They both breathe for a moment, Cam’s noticeably more labored.

“Fuck, babe,” PK finally sighs. “You’re so damn good at this. You probably want to come now, huh? After being so good for me?”

Cam’s already fumbling with the button of his pants, recognizing PK’s tease for what it is. His hands are shaking, bad, and he mutters a few expletives before managing to pull his cock out of his briefs. He hesitates before touching it, glancing up at PK.

His face is so open, even for post-orgasm, and Cam’s still processing that when PK says, “What, you forget how to work your own dick? Come on, get a hand on it.” Still, Cam hesitates an extra second, staring up at PK for approval as he wipes some of the come and drool off his face onto his hand before wrapping it around his cock. He’s still damn sensitive, making himself twitch, but he can’t wait any longer, not under PK’s searing gaze and how worked up he is.

His breath is catching within seconds, aching in ten different ways and desperate to come. He needs it, needs PK, in him and—

PK slides two fingers into his still-open mouth, holding Cam’s jaw steady and gently petting at his tongue. “Come on, baby, you’ve done so good, come for me.”

Cam moans, then sobs, and a breathless second later he’s clenching all over, streaking his hand with come.

Cam finds himself leaning heavy on the door of the stall, with PK swaying slightly in front of him. Impulsively, he slouches forward, head landing on PK’s thigh. They just breathe, slowly, sore. Cam feels like he could melt, diffuse right into PK and stay that way forever. 

“Jesus, we’re damn good,” PK says eventually, and Cam hums in agreement before PK goes on to say, “Why did we break up again?”

And just like that, the mood is gone. Cam’s gut rolls, goes cold, solidifies, bile rising in his throat. Stupid. His hand jerks out, tearing off a long string of toilet paper to wipe the worst of the mess off. “I don’t fucking know, PK, but feel free to tell me when you figure that out,” Cam croaks out, and he feels so damn stupid, saying that through his fucked-dumb, bruised throat. 

“No, wait, Cam, come on—,” PK protests as Cam gets his shaky legs under him, but PK knows better than to close him in right now. Cam’s out of the stall a second later, stumbling towards the mirror to assess the damage.

It’s extensive. Red eyes, red face, red mouth, red marks where PK’s fingers had dug in. His shirt is probably done for. _Stupid_.

He wets a couple paper towels, tries to cool down and wipe everything off in one go, and resolutely ignores PK hovering behind him in the mirror.

“Cam,” PK starts, and Cam’s already sick of it, his damn cajoling voice. “I really think we should talk about some things, while we’re both here.”

“Like what?” Cam snaps as best he can, pressing a fresh, cool towel against his eyes. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” PK admits. “Before, things ending really suddenly, and we didn’t really have time to find... closure. I tried calling you, but that obviously didn’t work.”

“I blocked you,” Cam says, after it’s clear he isn’t going to continue without some input. Cam hadn’t been able to delete his number, not after he’d had to scroll past five other Subbans to get to PK. 

“Oh. Well. We should still talk. You still eat steak, right? You got to, living in the Midwest. Come on, we can go to Capital Grille or something, somewhere nice. I’ll pay.” 

Cam sighs, hating himself for even considering it. But _fuck_ , does Cam miss him. More than he’d ever admit.

He shakes his head, trying to clear everything out. “PK, you’re not going to be able to get in any of those places on short notice. I leave the day after tomorrow.”

“I’ll just use my charm,” PK says, using his salesman smile, full of teeth. It falls when Cam doesn’t react, to a more serious expression. “And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go to fucking El Pelón. That’s not the point, Cam, I just– I think _we_ just really need to talk things through, because things got really fucked towards the end and a lot of things went unsaid when they shouldn’t have. I get if you’re done, I do, but I really think it’d do us both good. Please.”

The most petty part of him still wants to say no, wants to walk out the door with the last biting rejection and never come back to this city. Even though he loves it. Even though it hurt like nothing else to leave it in the first place.

 The decision is pretty easy, honestly. “Fine. Dinner tomorrow at El Pelón. Or whatever fancy steakhouse you shmooze yourself into.”

 PK’s face lights up, and it’s probably a bad sign that it stirs up a little pride in Cam. “Really?” PK asks.

 “Really,” Cam confirms. PK doesn’t kiss him, and it’s probably for the best, but they do spend several moments just staring at each other. Finally, Cam says, “I have to get back to the guys, they’re probably worried.” Or annoyed that their alcohol never got delivered, more accurately.

 “Oh, yeah, I saw you with them earlier. Decent looking bunch.”

 “They’re _associates_ ,” Cam hisses, scandalized, even though it tears at his throat. PK laughs, and Cam can’t help a twitch of a smile at that.

 PK grabs his hand for a second, and says, “Unblock my number, okay? I’ll call you. Tomorrow afternoon. I swear.” It’s probably not great that Cam can tell how serious he is just from the set of his eyebrows, but he does.

“Okay. I will,” Cam swears. PK stares at him, his eyes and nose and mouth, before drifting slightly to his right. He blinks, slow.

“Got some in your hair.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a menace,” Cam bitches. He turns back to the mirror, tearing off another paper towel. PK squeezes Cam’s hips once, and the sound of the door hinges is the only thing that announces his departure. For once, that doesn’t worry Cam at all.

**Author's Note:**

> [Where to find me and also porn on tumblr.](http://ratbarnaby.tumblr.com)


End file.
